


Just Like a Candle

by BlossomsintheMist



Series: Steve/Tony Kinktober 2017 [14]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Tony, Bottom Tony Stark, Dom Steve, Dom Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sensation Play, Sexual Content, Sub Tony, Sub Tony Stark, Subspace, Temperature Play, Top Steve, Top Steve Rogers, Wax Play, mentions of oral sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 23:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12519032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlossomsintheMist/pseuds/BlossomsintheMist
Summary: “You’re staying so still for me,” Steve murmured, and his fingers traced gently over the still warm, cooling wax on Tony’s back, and oh, oh, that made him shiver, the sensation somehow all the more vivid for being nearly cut off in places by the thick wax clinging to Tony’s skin.  “And you’re reacting so nicely.  That little quiver of your back when I let the wax hit your skin is so beautiful, Tony.”Written for Day Sixteen of Kinktober: Wax Play.





	Just Like a Candle

“Are you still comfortable?” Steve’s voice came, cutting through the soft deep haziness of the daze Tony was feeling himself sink into, just enough to bring his consciousness up again, to him, just a little, make him more aware of the warm points over his shoulders where Steve had already dripped wax, the glowing heat lingering just under the skin, the solidity of the points of wax, as Steve’s hand smoothed over the smooth, slick skin at the small of his back, rubbing the massage oil in a little more.

Tony smiled, felt it soft and a loose, loopy, on his lips as he pressed his face against his arm. “Yeah,” he said, and it sounded breathy, low and thick _already_ , Jesus, Tony, going all spaced-out and dreamy so quickly was a little bit embarrassing, but—well, it felt really good, and Steve had given him such a long massage beforehand, making sure his skin was soft and glowing and slick with oil, his muscles soft and relaxed and loose.  And before that, even, he’d sucked Steve’s cock, and that had already put him down into an easy, soft sort of headspace, the feeling of Steve in his mouth, down his throat, knowing that he was giving him pleasure. That had gotten him warm and floating on the rhythmic motions of it, the heat and weight of Steve in his mouth, the ache in his jaw, even before Steve had framed his face in his hands, kissed his forehead, his mouth, after Tony had slid back off his cock, and Tony had felt himself blushing, smiling, hot and a little flustered by the affection, and had leaned forward to press a kiss to the skin of Steve’s warm, slowly softening cock, even before Steve had laid him down on his stomach, on a bunch of old towels that had already gotten stained or burned or damaged somehow, and started to give him that massage.  His skin was already warmed up and sensitive from Steve’s hands on him, warm and firm and digging into his muscles, working out all his soreness. Getting him ready for this.   “It feels really good, sugar.”  Especially, at the moment, how Steve was rubbing a little more oil in the small of his back.  Was he going to put the wax there next?  Tony felt himself squirm a little against the bed, eager, curious.

But the next touch of the warm wax to his skin didn’t come there; it came in a trail of heat over his shoulders, dipping down and following his spine, then up again to his other shoulder, and Tony was shivering with sensation when it stopped, no more hot splashing wax hot and searing for just a moment along his skin before it spread into that low, soft, spreading glow of warmth just under his skin. It took him a moment to realize it had really stopped.

He had a feeling that Steve was being excruciatingly careful, moving so slowly, but for once Tony didn’t mind.  It was a wonderful tease, wondering where Steve would drip the wax next.  And, honestly, he’d never done this before, and he actually really appreciated that Steve was trying to ease him into it so gently.  He didn’t need to, of course, but Tony—Tony appreciated it.

Steve’s fingers traced down the ridge of Tony’s spine, then, rubbed a circle at the small of his back. Tony sucked in a low breath, expecting the next sear of heat to come over the path Steve’s fingers had taken, but instead, it dripped in slow, soft, gradual drips that felt big and solid over the meat of his shoulder on one side.  It was hot, a vivid, almost sharp sensation that had Tony squirming and gasping in his soft, open state, but it didn’t really _hurt_ ; he was used to giving himself burns in the workshop that hurt a hell of a lot more than this, so this just sparked in an almost painful, almost exciting way, racing along his nerve endings and shivering under his skin, the warmth spreading out under it and leaving Tony hyper-aware of the cooling wax, of his skin all around it, and the contrast between sensitive, tingling warmth and the flesh around it.

Steve repeated the same steady, slow, drip drip drip of wax on the meat of the other shoulder, and Tony breathed out into it, deep and slow, closed his eyes as the heat spread into him.  “That’s it,” Steve breathed, “you’re doing so good.”  He could feel it as his lover moved to straddle him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the back of Tony’s head, then scratched gently with his short nails around the wax droplets he’d left, against the bare, oiled skin, not touching the wax.  It somehow sharpened the sensation incredibly, made him all the more aware of it—the cooling wax, the spreading warmth, and Tony sucked in his breath again.  “So good,” Steve murmured, and Tony could smell him as he rubbed his hand up and down Tony’s spine, the soft scent of the soap he used, the sandalwood shaving cream Tony had bought him, the whiff of Pinaud Clubman aftershave he wore, the touch of the scent of leather that always seemed to hang about him.  Steve always smelled a little like an old-fashioned barbershop when he was freshly shaved and washed up, and Tony couldn’t get enough of it.  The candle Steve had lit before they got started, not the ones he was using to drip wax all over Tony’s body, but the one that was gently scenting the room, was one Tony had bought because it reminded him of how Steve’s smelled, even, embarrassing as that was.  It came in a barbicide jar, and smelled of honey, smoke, leather, and lavender, according to the packaging.  Tony just knew that it had reminded him of how Steve smelled, that perfect old-fashioned manly barbershoppy smell, when he’d opened one in the store and given it a curious whiff, and he’d immediately bought about ten, mostly intending to light them while Steve was gone, and he sometimes needed help getting to sleep on his own (he’d gotten so used to having Steve there, warm and breathing in the bed beside him, and sometimes Tony, well, he just really missed him, and he knew it was clingy, needy, too much, but he just …).

Tony felt himself smile into his arm again, slow and blurry.  “What’s there to be good about?” he murmured.  “’m just lying here.”

“You’re staying so still for me,” Steve murmured, and his fingers traced gently over the still warm, cooling wax on Tony’s back, and oh, oh, that made him shiver, the sensation somehow all the more vivid for being nearly cut off in places by the thick wax clinging to Tony’s skin.  “And you’re reacting so nicely.  That little quiver of your back when I let the wax hit your skin is so beautiful, Tony.”

“It is?” Tony mumbled, but he felt pleased by that, warm in the face, again, but then, he really felt warm all over now, now that Steve was doing to him, and then Steve was letting more wax fall in fat drops along the rise of Tony’s hips, in a long, slow line, and he was catching his breath, panting with the vivid bright sting and glow and warmth of the sensations.

Steve let it pool a little in the small of his back, until it was hot enough Tony really was panting, and then he felt him drip his fingers into it, spread it out over Tony’s spine, his back, painting it down into the very top of his ass crack with one finger, lingering there and swirling it around, and that was so intimate, so intensely intimate, Steve’s fingers on him through the wax, that Tony let out a low, shaking moan that broke in the middle, surprising him.  A little embarrassed, he pressed his forehead down, against his arm, panting.

“Beautiful, Tony,” Steve said, sounding hushed, and then he was pressing another kiss to the back of Tony’s neck, sucking there in a wet, soft, sloppy kiss, all wet breath and warm, hot mouth and soft wet spit all over the back of his neck in a way that somehow felt amazing, wet and perfect rather than gross, and another line of wax droplets splattered down, along the line of Tony’s spine.  It felt so much more intense there than it had higher up on his back, there and at the base of his spine, and Tony gasped, tried not to jerk or tremble too obviously under Steve, but felt, heard himself panting. “Beautiful,” Steve said again, and the backs of his fingers brushed against Tony’s hair before he was moving down again, pressing a kiss to Tony’s neck right above where the congealing wax lay in a rough line, then scooting back again.  Tony could feel the warmth of his body, his legs, the brush of his ass against his own legs, his knees and under his thighs.

“Still doing okay?” Steve asked, rubbing one side of Tony’s back, against his ribs, with one hand, thumb tracing over the skin.

“Mmm,” Tony breathed. “Yeah.  It—it doesn’t hurt, really,” he added.  “It’s just—it’s nice.”  It sounded so lame, so feeble, when he put it like that, and he pushed his head farther down against his hand, feeling his heart pound in his ears.  Why did he get so inarticulate like this, like his brain had stopped working, gone soft between his ears, and he couldn’t think of a decent sentence to save his life?

“Good,” Steve said, softly. “That’s exactly how I was hoping it would feel.  Just tell me if it gets too hot, okay?”  He stroked his thumb down gently, rubbed it slowly at the cooling wax all over the small of Tony’s back.  “This felt okay?”

“Mmm, yeah,” Tony said. “It was a little warmer, but it felt good.  It felt fine.”

“Okay, good,” Steve said. “I’m going to more down to your bottom now, all right, Tony?”

Tony smiled against his arm, because Steve just wouldn’t call it his ass, would he?  He did for other people’s asses, Tony was pretty sure. “Yeah, slugger,” he breathed. “That’s just fine.”

He wondered how it would feel against his ass, though, he did.  Warmer?  Sharper? Maybe it would hurt more.

And then the wax was dripping down again, over the rounded curve of Tony’s right ass cheek, the highest point, and he sucked in his breath because wow, yeah, that was more intense, that was sharper for sure, but it felt so good, sharp and bright and _hot_ before the feeling turned into that deep glowing warmth again.

“Okay?” Steve said.

Tony’s voice came out very breathy and slurred, that time.  “Okay, yes, okay, ‘s good, ‘s good,” he said.  And it was.  Somehow, that sting had felt amazing, not like pain, but like warmth and adrenaline and soaring sensation over, under his skin.  He wanted more, could feel his face getting hot with it. 

“Okay,” Steve said, a soft breathless quality to his voice, and then more wax spilled down, pooled and dripped and slipped down over his hip to the towel, Tony could feel it, and he gasped and squirmed beneath it, his skin so sensitive and that teasing hot tingle all over it.  “Good,” Steve breathed, and his hand came up, squeezed and palmed Tony’s ass on the other side, rubbing up and down with more oil.  “That’s so good, Tony.”

Tony groaned, pleased at the praise, so pleased it was almost embarrassing, still luxuriating in the feel of the hot wax and the spreading sensation on his other ass cheek, the way Steve was rubbing and squeezing him with his hand, and pushed his face further into the towels.  Steve dripped the wax onto that cheek next, rubbing his finger around the spreading droplets, teasing softly at the skin of Tony’s ass around it until it felt so sensitive and tingling that Tony groaned, pushed his hips down against the towels and realized to his surprise that he was hard and a bolt of pleasure shot through him from his cock when he did.  He couldn’t help grinding down a little after that, hoping Steve wouldn’t mind, maybe wouldn’t even notice, just enjoying the hot warm throbbing pleasure from his hard cock in counterpoint to the warm sensations still spreading through his ass.

Steve didn’t say anything about it, anyway, just cupped Tony’s ass right at the base where it met his thigh and pushed his thumb into the soft skin, massaging gently and pulling his cheeks apart slightly, then drizzling the wax up and down the first cheek, from the top curve all the way down to drip and slide toward Steve’s own thumb pressed into the top of his thigh.  Tony gasped, shivering with the sensations, tried to stay still despite the temptation to keep rolling his hips and pressing his cock into the towels.

“That’s so good, you’re doing so good for me, Tony,” Steve said, “I love watching you, are you liking it so far?”

“Yeah,” Tony said against the blankets, and it came out hoarse and husky, and he thought, a little embarrassed, didn’t Steve know that, surely he’d seen Tony’s balls full and tight with arousal between his gently spread legs, had noticed him rubbing himself against the towels just for a little sensation.

“That’s good,” Steve said, and Tony thought he could hear the smile in his voice.  “I’m so glad.”  And then more wax dripping onto his other cheek, Steve moving it around in a circle as the big flat droplets painted heat over Tony’s skin, and Tony lost his thoughts in a moan.

Steve must have kept going on Tony’s ass for a long time, until the sides of it were almost solid with wax droplets sliding down over his hips to the towels, until Tony was lost in it and rocking and moaning and barely aware of anything but the warmth in his sensitive skin, the heat and the sensation and how warm and hot and tingling he felt all over, the strange solid feeling of the wax cooled on his skin, and then Steve moved down to his thighs.

It felt even _more_ sensitive there, if that were even possible, and Tony found himself gasping, both hands gripping tight and twisting into fists in the towels as he pressed his mouth against the back of his own hand, feeling it wet and open and drooling, as he dragged in deep lungfuls of warm sweet air that smelled like the candle, like Steve, and hot sensation sparked along his skin and spread deep under it all over his thighs.  And then Steve was spreading them a little more, pushing his knees out wide, and Tony felt a sudden jump of shuddering adrenaline leap through him, pounding in his chest, because what was Steve going to do, what did he want to get at, Tony trusted him but hell, how would that even feel, if he did it to his genitals, or—and then Steve splashed some of the wax, hot and stinging and so, so good, against Tony’s inner thigh, and he relaxed again on a moan, feeling the tension rush out of him at the hot smarting tingle of the sensation, the ever deepening warmth of it.  Steve did the other thigh, too, until it was wet and smarting and covered in wax, and Tony was gasping, and then, before Tony knew what he was doing, he heard him set something aside and move up his back again, running his fingers gently over the patterns of wax, cool now, and hard, he’d left there. 

“Still feeling good?” he asked, low and soft, and Tony took a deep breath, breathed in the scent of him, and blew it back out, feeling himself trembling and overcome, but still soft, relaxed, the feeling all through him so good and warm.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Real good, cupcake.” 

“Nothing hurting or burning?” Steve said, and Tony just shook his head, closing his eyes and savoring the sensation of the heat and soft, cooling wax over his thighs, the softness of the tingling sting that went so deep and warm into his sensitive skin. “Okay,” Steve said, and then he scratched his fingers gently down over Tony’s shoulders, and Tony almost sobbed, it felt so good as the wax flaked off and Steve’s short nails scratched gently over the raw, sensitive skin underneath, all hot and prickling under his fingers and oh, it felt so good.

Steve trailed his nails back and forth over Tony’s shoulders for a while, then, scratching at the tingling, itching, sensitive skin as he did until Tony was a panting mess of pleasure. It was like scratching an itch but in the most intense, beautifully hot, almost painful way possible, and everywhere Steve’s gentle nails touched felt cooler, soothed and soft and still sensitive and wonderful.  If he was going to do that all over, Tony was going to come before he got to his ass, even, he thought, and before he could start to feel embarrassed over that, Steve leaned in and whispered, “Hey, baby, do you think you could come while I do this? Just trailing my fingernails over your back and you, you rubbing your sweet hard cock up against the towels?  You’ll be just as raw over your cock as you are on your back and your thighs when you’re done, when I’m done with you.  Do you want that?”

And Tony moaned, feeling his cock jump just at that.  “Yes, yes,” he said, “oh, Steve, honey, please, I want that.”

“Okay, good,” Steve said softly, and leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Tony’s neck again. “Then that’s what I want you to do. You look so beautiful, Tony, you do, covered in wax like this, come for me, okay?  I want to see it.”

And so Tony did, writhing with pleasure as he rolled his hips up against the towels and Steve gently scratched his nails down over his back, over his shoulders so the hard wax started to come up, scratching around the sensitive places then slowly peeling it up, circling his nails, slow and looping, over Tony’s ribs where there was no wax, back up, back down, sliding his thumb nail down over Tony’s spine and flicking it gently at the wax there, rubbing both hands against the so, so sensitive, tingling, hot small of Tony’s back, at the base of his spine, through the wax, before he lightly started to scratch off the wax along Tony’s lower back, at the very first place where it started to curve up into his ass.  Tony’s cock was throbbing and tingling, leaking desperately, and he wanted to get a hand on himself so badly, but he wasn’t sure if Steve would want that or if he just wanted Tony to rub off just like that, so that was what he did, pushing his hips down against the towels to press his cock into them between the towels and his pelvis and rubbing there, desperately.

And he had totally been right, because Steve scratched up and started to peel away the solidity and thickness of the wax at the base of his spine, rubbing and scratching his thumb gently just there between the very start of the crease of Tony’s ass, Tony shuddered and felt his orgasm sweep through him, from the top of his head and the trembling muscles of his head to his cock, coming and coming as he writhed and panted and yeah, maybe did sob a little into the towels, working his hips desperately and crying out through his climax.

He felt so—so soft, easy and warm, when he came down, soft and loose and wonderful and relaxed all over, so warm and so good, and Steve was still rubbing at his ass, gentling him through it with soft scratches long and easy and tingling down over the curve of Tony’s ass cheeks, against the wax, and Tony moaned and rubbed his soft cock against the towels a little more as pleasure prickled there, hyperaware of it shivering and hot in his cock at the sensation as Steve so gently rubbed and caressed and grazed his nails slowly, slowly over his ass, up and down.  By the time he was scratching and peeling the wax off Tony’s inner thighs, Tony was whimpering, soft and low and floating, trembling with pure sensation, rutting against the towels despite his flaccid cock just for the extra, almost painful sensation, his cock soft yet throbbing with every helpless flex forward of his hips, and wishing he had it in him to come again as Steve ran his nails gently over the sensitive warm patches at the inside of Tony’s thighs, rubbing his thumbs where the skin still tingled and felt like it was glowing deep under the skin.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Steve said, sounding breathless himself, “God, Tony, was that good?  Did you like that?”

“So much, slugger,” Tony slurred out into the blankets, and meant it.  “It was so good.  Felt so good. Oh, oh, God, oh, just.  Keep rubbing my thighs?”  It came out breathless, not quite certain.

“Sure thing,” Steve said then, just as breathless, and his thumbs pressed in a little harder, and Tony shivered all over, feeling a warm wave of sensation roll over him from the balls of his feet over his ass and his back and neck and ears and up into his face.

“Ahh,” he moaned, and he thought he heard Steve smiling when he spoke again.

“That’s it,” he said, “I’m so glad you like that.”

“So good,” Tony mumbled. “Feels so good.”

“Good,” Steve said, stroked Tony’s thighs now, still scratching gently, and he gave a soft little cry and trembled under him, couldn’t help it as sensation seemed to go through him from head to foot with each long soft graze of Steve’s nails.

Finally, Steve rolled him onto his back, and Tony took in a deep, deep lungful of air that smelled of Steve so perfectly, sweet and herbal and crisp and manly, and opened his eyes to see Steve there, smiling at him, hair a little tousled and falling into his eyes, leaning down over him, and Tony felt his own face twist and smile in some kind of stupidly emotional, lopsided smiling thing.  “Can I do something for you?” he mumbled.  “That was so, so good, sweetheart, I want to …”

“Not just yet,” Steve said, and his hand came down, stroked along Tony’s cheek, his thumb tracing down his jaw, and Tony nuzzled his face against it, down into it, and God, but his smile down at Tony was just so sweet, so _fond_ , “but if you let me rub off between your thighs in the shower—”

Tony moaned at the idea of that, Steve fucking his big, hot, heavy cock between his thighs, there, right where he was most tender and sensitive, and God, wow, what would that even feel like—“Yes,” he mumbled, “please, please, do that Steve, please, my thighs, use my thighs, rub off between my thighs.”

Steve smiled, face so soft and affectionate, and leaned down, pressed a kiss against Tony’s lips that he arched up into, parting them eagerly for the warmth and wet and softness of Steve’s mouth.  “You’re so sweet,” Steve said against Tony’s lips when he pulled away again, “so generous to me, so good, thank you, Tony.”

And Tony turned away and shook his head and thought he might have flushed, though he was so warm all over it was hard to tell, but inside he was flying as Steve leaned in, rubbed his thumb gently against his cheek, and kissed him again.


End file.
